The Ear in the Wall eBook

For several minutes we listened to snatches of the
usual vapid chatter that dancing seems to induce.
Then the orchestra blared forth with another of the
seductive popular pieces.

Kennedy and I looked at each other, amazed. From
the underworld up to the smart set, the trail of graft
was the same, debauching and blunting all that it
touched. Here we saw the making of a full-fledged
scandal in one of the highest circles.

We had scarcely recovered from our surprise at the
startling disclosures of the vocaphone, when we heard
two voices again above the music, two men this time.

“What—­you here?” inquired a
voice which we recognized immediately as that of Langhorne.

“Yes,” replied the other voice, evidently
of a young man. “I came in with the swells
to keep my eye peeled on what was going on.”

The voice itself was unfamiliar, yet it had a tough
accent which denoted infallibly the section of the
city where it was acquired. It was one of the
gangsters.

“What’s up, Ike?” demanded Langhorne
suspiciously.

Craig looked at me significantly. It was Ike
the Dropper!

The other lowered his voice. “I don’t
mind telling you, Mr. Langhorne. You’re
in the organization and we ain’t got no grudge
against you. It’s Carton.”

“Carton?” repeated Langhorne, and one
could feel the expectant catch in his breath, as he
added quickly: “You mean you fellows are
going to try to get him right?”

“Bet your life,” swaggered Ike, believing
himself safe. “How?”

The gangster hesitated, then reassured by Langhorne,
said: “He’s ordered a taxicab.
We got it for him—­a driver who is a right
guy and’ll drive him down where there’s
a bunch of the fellows. They ain’t goner
do nothing serious—­but—­well,
he won’t campaign much from a hospital cot,”
he added sagely. “Say—­here he
comes now with that girl. I better beat it.”

Langhorne also managed to get away apparently, or
else Carton and Miss Ashton were too engrossed in
one another to notice him, for we heard no word of
greeting.

A moment later Carton’s and Miss Ashton’s
voices were audible.

“Must you go?” she was saying.

“I’m afraid so,” he apologized.
“I’ve a speech to prepare for to-morrow
and I’ve had several hard days. It’s
been a splendid evening, Miss Ashton—­splendid.
I’ve enjoyed it ever so much and I think it
has accomplished more than a hundred meetings—­besides
the publicity it will get for the cause. Shall
I see you to-morrow at headquarters?”

“I shall make it a point to drop in,”
she answered in a tone as unmistakable.

“Mr. Carton—­your cab is waiting,
sir,” announced a servant with an apology for
intruding. “At the side entrance, sir, so
that you can get away quietly, sir.”

Carton thanked him.

I looked at Kennedy anxiously. If Carton slipped
away in this fashion before we could warn him, what
might not happen? We could hardly expect to get
around and through the press of the dancers in time.